


Legacy

by Nabila



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Great War, Memories, One Shot, the first sentence may remind you something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 09:29:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13972146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nabila/pseuds/Nabila
Summary: Jon and Sansa had a little boy they named Eddard, in honor of their father. Little Eddard is now a clever nine year old, who wants to learn more about his family.





	Legacy

_“….And it was in this moment, that Jon Snow, the Prince that was promised, took up his Valyrian sword and stabbed the Night King through his chest. The dead, one by one, fell off the ground and all disappeared. The war was won and the enemy of the living defeated.”_

“This is how the war was won and your father brought peace in the Seven Kingdoms.” Maester Tarly added as he closed the book that narrated Jon’s gestures.

Eddard was dubious though, “mother told me peace came long after the defeat of the White Walkers,” he debated.

“What came after,” Sam explained, “was the conflict to restore peace among the living. None of us had wished for that war to come, but Daenerys Targaryen's inability to rule forced us to act on it and war bestowed upon us in spite of our lack of men and strength.”

“What happened?” A curious boy of nine he was, young and hotheaded just like his father, with dark curly hair that reminded Sam so much of his old friend, and those big, blue eyes that marked Sansa’s presence in him. Nothing of the Targaryen heritage that belonged to him was left, whilst the hidden fear that the madness within would unleash once grown up, had been residing in Sansa since the birth of her only child. _“Love no one but your children”_ was what Cersei Lannister had taught her in her years in King’s Landing and the moment Eddard was born, she knew what she meant. She loved him fiercely and her duty would be to raise him and teach him how to be both a good man and King.

“The Targaryen Queen had a good heart, she truly wanted to do good and to help the people,” Sam began narrating one of the darkest times of Westeros, “but at times good intentions do not match with peace and prosperity, it is not enough to declare the will to help the poor, to bring justice and rule wisely if you're not willing to a deeper level of understanding of your people's needs. Daenerys was very narrow-minded, she had many counselors she swore she was willing to listen to, but with time their advice wouldn’t be taken into consideration and she surrendered to her worst impulses, as many had predicted."

“But if she wanted to do good, why was she bad? I don't understand.”

“Well, she looked at the world merely from her own perspective. She did not attempt to pay attention to her people’s needs, she did not know how to negotiate without using her dragons fire and after King's Landing's destruction, the common people lived in complete poverty, and she did not contribute with a safe plan to let the economy rise again. It all caused more death, suffering and discontent. And arguably her distance from our culture, from our tradition and her lack of understanding of why such things were important to us, created a fracture between her and us.”

“Is that why she went mad? I heard mother once talking about her madness!!” she asked naively.

Sam gulped, “everyone, even her most trusted advisors, began to believe in a better world built by your father. All, one by one, left her side. Their betrayal contributed her madness to flare, many men lost their lives because of her. ‘Dracarys’ she kept screaming to the only dragon she had and only ashes would remain in her presence.” It was one of the many lessons of Westeros history that Sam imparted on little Eddard. This one, though, was the war Samwell had partaken in those many years before, a war still fresh in his mind along with those he had lost in it who still lived in his heart.

“She burned people?” He asked in utter shock.

“Aye, dear boy. She burned those who wouldn’t kneel, those who betrayed her and, sadly, innocents.” Maester Tarly had a sore expression as he recalled those events, “no one should face such horrendous death. It is vile and atrocious. It is inhumane."

He paused, for it was too heavy in his heart to know that his own father and brother died tragically without second thoughts from the Queen who had promised to murder no one, but to bring peace and prosperity.

“You taught me disloyal men have been beheaded, even grandfather did that. Mother told me so.” Eddard was a very attentive boy, nothing taught to him was overlooked and everything was remembered with a diligence that surprised Sansa herself.

“Your grandfather was a honorable man, he was Warden of the North under Robert Baratheon’s reign and did what was his duty and what was demanded of him. He did give a quick death to those who betrayed the Crown, he looked them in the eyes and passed the sentence. He didn’t like it, though. No good ruler enjoys to sentence his people to death and when the time comes, it is done with a heavy heart.”

“And the Dragon Queen liked it?”

Sam dreaded to tell him what she had done, what a woman related to him was capable to do. He awaited a few seconds and then he spoke, “She had come to a place where burning those who wouldn’t kneel immediately to her, those who were merely accused to conspire behind her back without any proof, had become a normal practice to perform daily. Witnesses would say she had a sore look, yet determined and resolute as though she was certain her choice to punish without a trial was the only possible solution against those who had betrayed her. But,” little Eddard noticed a change in the eyes of his Measter, a look of agony and contempt, “many still remember the desperate plea for forgiveness, the smell of burning flesh lingering in the air after an execution. She didn’t look them in the eyes, though. She never dared to look at her doing and that, my dear boy, is a sign of cowardice.”

“So she burned people alive because she thought it was the right thing to do and not because she liked it?" 

“I think, dear Eddard, that with time the madness residing in her caused by her targaryen heritage, took possession - she was suspicious and jealous, she was quick to anger and she would easily lose her temper whenever the pressure was too much to handle - and when fire was the only thing left to her, then that became her way to find peace and feel satisfaction.”

“And what did father do?” a scared Eddard asked him with his blue eyes staring at Sam, looking for an answer.

"You have to know, your father and Daenerys had..." How could he tell him? How could he tell him of his father's deceitful actions? How was he in any position to tell him that the Mad Queen was in love with his father? 

“Samwell,” an elegant voice from the door of the Great Hall soared. Little Eddard turned his head and smiled. “Mother!”

Sansa was a grown woman now, tall and regal as any Queen was expected to be, wearing a long, teal green velvet dress perfectly fitting her curves and a silver fur around her shoulders to crown her heavenly beauty. 

“Ned, I need a word with your Maester. He will be back to you and your lesson soon, stay here in the meanwhile.”

Eddard nodded and obeyed. Sam stood up and followed his Queen outside the door.

“Everything regarding Jon and Daenerys’s past, before and after the Long Night, will be dealt by me in the future.” She promptly spoke, “you don’t have to worry about this, if anyone should tell him what happened before and after the Great war, it should be me.” She reassured him with a half smile on her lips, knowing well how Sam was very protective of her and her pain.

“My Queen…”

“Sansa, you always can call me Sansa in private,” she corrected him.

“Sansa…You don’t have to burden yourself with this. I’ve seen your pain and your struggle and…” He stuttered in difficult need to let his Queen understand she could avoid to relive that time of her life.

“I appreciate your concern Sam, it is honorable of you to try to release me from my suffering, but it’s always going to be a part of me and that is why I will be the one to tell my son what happened. It’s his father’s story and he was my husband.” She said with a glint of tears in her eyes.

“He was the man you loved and…and you shared with him everything during that time. His death…” he was sweating in struggle to persuade his Queen.

“His death marked my life, it scarred me more than the wounds on my body," she interrupted, "he was the only man I ever loved in my whole life and he sacrificed himself for us, I owe it to him to tell our son the truth.” She resolutely said, with the sadness that had marked her voice since Jon's death.

“As you wish,” he timidly smiled and bowed.

“Thank you, Sam.” She lay a hand on his arm, “I will always be grateful for all of your support, I will never forget it.”

Sam bowed once more and headed back to little Eddard to continue his lesson.

Sansa stood still in the hall remembering those harsh times after the Long Night came, after the Night King was defeated and she thought the worst had passed, but then Jon refused the throne to stay in the North with her as she was already pregnant with Eddard; he declined a marriage with Daenerys herself causing her anger and endless fury for his betrayal. Tyrion persuaded her to let Jon marry Sansa for the sake of the North, so they married out of love and had Eddard soon after. They were happy for a while and ruled the North together, until stories of Daenerys’s madness spread all over Westeros and all of the main Houses with most of her advisors rode North to beg Jon Snow to start a rebellion and become the King Westeros needed.

He had no will to rule South, no will to ride to King’s Landing, no will to start another draining war that would keep him away from his wife and, although Sansa didn’t want to let him go for it was too painful to watch him ride South again to Daenerys Targaryen as many years before, she told him to do the right thing for the Realm.

_“You have to go, Jon.” She whispered in his ear while lying on their bed after a long night of love making. She snuggled into his chest and held onto him for as long as she was allowed to, “do whatever is necessary for our people. For Eddard.”_

And Jon did the right thing, one last time.

He died in Winterfell soon after Daenerys’s defeat. His injuries were too deep and his body didn’t survive the last battle before peace. 

 

* * *

 

 That same late afternoon, Sansa headed to her son’s chamber.

“Do you want to come with me to an old place?” Sansa asked him.

“Where?”

“A place I used to go with your father way before you were born, would you like to see it?” He nodded with a sharp smirk. She knew he was happy to go where his father used to stand and whenever he was happy, her heart would warm a little.

He took his mother’s hand and walked with her in utter silence, until he recognized where they were heading. The Godswood.

A place he rarely ventured into due to her mother’s warnings and his fear that unknown monsters were lurking in it, awaiting to be unleashed. The Godswood were a sacred place to pray the Old Gods, but mother hadn’t gone in there for years, or at least that was what Measter Tarly told him.

“Mom…” his voice trembling as he clutched himself onto Sansa’s arm the second he saw the Weirwood tree from a long distance.

“Don’t be afraid, nothing will happen to you. You’re safe here.” She reassured him.

“Am I?”

Sansa chuckled in amusement, to see her son so scared was a new thing to her, so she stretched her arm along his shoulder and held him tight, “you are, my little boy. Come with me, let’s sit there, on the rock.”

It was around sunset now, a soft wind moving the red leaves on the trees and warm air caressing their skins. They sat on the rock under the Weirwood tree and stayed there silent for a while.

“Measter Tarly says this is where you used to pray,” Eddard spoke.

“I used to. Once, when I still believed in the Old Gods. But I mostly came here to think and meditate.”

“With father?” Sansa looked down on him and carefully thought about her words.

“No, I came here when he was South with Daenerys Targaryen.”

“The Mad Queen?”

“It was a time when we had to face the dead and she was an important ally to defeat them, so your father rode South to ask for her help.” Little Eddard stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

She sighed, “he had been claimed King in the North after we took Winterfell back from the Boltons, nevertheless the menace was imminent and your father was eager to get help from powerful people, the Mad Queen was the most important one.”

“Her dragons helped killing the White Walkers, Sam told me.”

“It took him months to convince her, he stayed away for long while I was here ruling the North in his stead and at times I had to come here to find peace and above all, the strength I needed as your father was far away from me.”

“He came back and saved the realm, though. He came back to you, mom” he smiled and threw himself at her. As she embraced him in her fur coat, she felt tears falling down her cheeks.

“He came back with the Silver Queen, although he was chosen to be King by his own people, he gave away the North to her, to a Southerner who had no knowledge of what it meant to be born and raised in the North,” she caressed his hair.

“But why??? Why did he do that?” he muffled.

“He had to. I was angry as well, but he was right. We needed her dragons to defeat the enemy and the only way to ensure her help was to give her what she wanted and the price for it was much greater than we expected. We were so desperate that to ensure she would keep her promise, your dad had to lie and play a little game with the Queen,” she heavily breathed for it was the first time she told the truth to her little boy.

Eddard straightened up in confusion, “A game? Father played games?”

Sansa chuckled, “It was surely not the kind of game you like to play. A ruthless and despicable game your father loathed from the first day; he made her fall in love with him, he courted her and bedded her; he gave her love and the full attention of a lover so that she would never dare to turn her back on us to fight Cersei Lannister in the South.”

Eddard stayed silent engrossed in his own thoughts, acquiring the new information about his father, “he wasn’t a bad man, remember this. All he did was to save the realm, to save everyone.”

“But he was in love with you, mom? He didn’t play you like the Mad Queen?”

“Of course not, my love. We were in love and you are the gift of our love,” she gave him a peck on his forehead.

“I wish he were here with us,” he whispered almost in tears.

“Me too, baby. But remember this, he loved you more than anyone else in this world and he would have given his life to save you and keep you safe from anyone who would harm you.” She said fiercely, aware that Jon's legacy would live through their son and hopefully through their grandchildren. 

 The little Prince still had to learn many things about his family’s past and what ensued after the Great War, but there was one thing he was certain of, the one thing that made him sleep tight at night under his covers in his home, the love of his parents that survived the harshest of times and most rigid winters, a love that would last forever for he could see in his mother’s eyes it still lingered in spite all the years his father had been gone.

“With time, I’ll tell you all you need to know about your father. Do not forget, he’ll always be with you. Now, let’s head back to the castle, it’s cold and it’ll be dark soon.”

* * *

 

  
“He’s a curious boy, you know? He’s smart and very intuitive, he’s going to be a magnificent King one day and he’ll be loved by the people just as you were.” Sansa stood in the crypts in front of Jon’s statue, “he looks so much like you,” she sighed with a knot in her throat.

“I wish you were here with us to raise him and see him become a man,” she smiled, “remember the day he was born? It was the first day of Spring and our son delighted us with his life. I will never forget the look in your face the moment you locked eyes with him, you realized you had to protect him at all cost. And you did it without second thoughts." She said proudly.

Sansa was not a religious woman, she did not believe in any god anymore, yet when she visited Jon’s tomb she spoke to him and confided in him. She wanted to believe a part of him was still there, residing in the walls of Winterfell looking over their son and protecting them; she had to believe it, otherwise she’d be lost.

She needed to believe his spirit would linger for her, to give her the strength she at times lacked, to hold her hand as she ruled, to calm her down when a shoulder to cry on in difficult times was needed. After Jon’s death she ruled alone and refused to remarry a Lord she would not love and dedicated herself to her son and the Kingdom.

As a little girl she had dreamed to marry the perfect knight: gentle and strong and brave. She had found him where she could not ever imagine to find her prince, and she lived that love fully, until she lost him, dying in her arms in the Lords chamber at Winterfell as she professed her love for him one last time.

“I miss you. Stay with me please, don’t leave me.”

And she knew he was there with his arms embracing her waist, whispering sweet, loving words in her ears.


End file.
